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Wiping my hair from my face, I’m about to do the same frantic search again when I catch a faint trace of a familiar scent, now apparent that everything else has been washed away. It's a subtle thread, but undeniable, nonetheless. I follow it down the dark alleyway.
Following the fragrance, I finally find her, curled up against the unforgiving stone wall. The rain has already saturated Aria’s hair, her skin, her clothes. In the dim light, she appears fragile, her tear-stained face etched with devastation.
My urgency to make amends surges as I approach her cautiously. She's a balm to my tumultuous heart, but I can see the pain etched into her features. I kneel beside her, the chill of the alleyway seeping through my clothes, but I hardly notice.
"Aria," I whisper, the weight of my mistakes heavy in my voice.
Her eyes, red and swollen, meet mine with a mix of surprise and sadness. Her heartache is palpable, and I'm determined to ease it, to mend the shattered pieces of our relationship. As I move closer, I didn’t bother to wipe away the rain. I don’t attempt to mask my weariness and troubles.
This moment deserves more than lies.
Aria simply stares at me, and it feels as though she hasn't blinked in ages. In the time it took me to find her, my mind raced with the words I wanted to say. The weight of the situation presses down on me, and I'm unsure of where to even begin. But then I notice a subtle quiver in her lips, her mouth parting as if to release the words she's been holding back. It's her turn to speak, and I decide to remain silent, waiting for whatever words she chooses to share.
"I know there's an explanation," Aria begins, her voice carrying a sense of raw vulnerability. She gestures vaguely with trembling hands. "But I just can't..."
I have to lock my muscles so I don’t go to her. I hate that I’m now part of what's broken her.
Tears well up in her eyes once more, and with each tear that falls, her voice gains strength. "It just keeps going on and on and on! I'm interrogated, reminded of how I couldn't do a thing to save Peter, reminded that I have to resort to prostitution just to have a hope of seeing him alive! I know I don't have to do this; I know it isn't my fault!” Her shoulders slump. She looks at me, her emerald eyes puffy and swollen from the tears. “But I love him, I love my family, Chase. It took the choice out of my hands."
My heart is heavy, weighed down by invisible anchors that have sunk it into the depths of my stomach. I carefully, slowly extend my hand. "There's something I have to show you."
She looks at my outstretched palm, clearly torn about whether to accept it. I hold my breath, knowing that I'm asking a lot of her.
That despite it all, I’m asking her to make another choice.
Aria hesitates for a moment but then takes my hand. I gently haul her to her feet, resisting the urge to pull her into an embrace. She doesn't need empty apologies right now. What she needs is proof that she's more than anyone else I've ever met, that what we have is stronger than all of this.
To do that I have to confront my past, bury it once and for all.
And that means making a confession.
Rather than leading Aria to her home or the club, I guide her to a halt halfway down the dimly lit alley, where I clashed with Bane not too long ago. Devoid of blood-soaked bodies and injured men, it appears different now. Yet, the stubborn stains of blood and the harsh claw marks etched into the walls remain. The silhouettes of the thugs who had been reduced to John Does are scratched into the ground.
As she takes in the grim surroundings, I finally release her hand. My lips move without my conscious intent, and words flow out of me like a tidal wave.
"It might sound condescending, but my family is a bit of a mess as well," I confess, my voice trembling with vulnerability. "You might not believe me, but I understand the frustration of being unable to change things. In my case, I was utterly powerless at the time when I needed it most."
Aria freezes, her gaze locking onto mine as if searching for answers.
"Most people only know me for what my father did. He cheated and stole and lied, and eventually left when I was too young to understand any better," I continue, my voice laced with pain. "He had a reputation within the pack, so when he left, no one was willing to take us in. My mother and I became drifters, outcasts in our own pack. We often depended on others just to have enough for one of us to survive."
I gaze into Aria's eyes, her emerald orbs puffy and swollen from the tears. "You remind me of her, Aria. While there are obviously many differences, I can say with confidence that she would've loved you."
"Would've?" Aria questions, her voice laced with curiosity and empathy.
What follows is a part of my past that’s difficult to recollect and articulate. Merely thinking about it makes my heart ache more than it did when I faced Aria. A shudder courses through me, and I become aware of warmth sliding down my cheek, a sensation I haven't felt before.
I swallow back the bitterness welling up in my throat. "We couldn't carry on like that forever, especially the two of us in the unforgiving winter," I say with a heavy sigh. We left the city, hoping the wilds were safer. "She endured the cold to keep me warm, often skipping meals to ensure my survival. Most of all, she fought fiercely to protect me.
"But it became too much. She was a nurturer by nature, never a fighter. One day, a pack assaulted us and got a lucky shot at her." I shudder, my voice laden with grief. "She died right before my eyes."
"Oh my god," Aria gasps, sympathy filling her voice. A hand flutters up to cover her mouth as she gazes at me in shock.
"Fortunately," I continue, "she died while in her wolf form, sparing me the agony of witnessing her human self wither away. Vultures eventually descended upon her lifeless body. I tried to fend them off, but I was just a child back then, lacking the strength to protect her honor."
I grit my teeth. "So, I watched helplessly as vultures defiled my mother's corpse, tearing away what little remained of her dignity in death. I didn't even notice when they left because I’d been staring for so long. I probably stared long enough at her desecrated body to drive anyone insane. Over the years, I tracked down that pack and killed every one of them. But it doesn't change what I saw."
I run a hand through my hair, trying to steady my emotions. "No matter how many years have passed, no matter how many people I've killed, I still saw her ravaged corpse every time I closed my eyes." I take a deep breath, my voice shaking. "But, by sheer chance, that changed."
